Bleed
by Bookjunk
Summary: Beware: I'm not a FSoG fan. Ana starts to push back. Christian doesn't like it.
1. Breathe

Warning:

If Christian Grey is your dream guy, if you think that Ana is a strong and smart woman, if you believe that their relationship is the stuff epic romances are made of: this story is not for you. Contrary to what people may think, my purpose is not to antagonise or troll fans. I simply like writing snarky FSoG stories and sharing them with people who like to read snarky FSoG stories. Therefore, I want my stories to be read by people who are likely to enjoy them. So, if you are a Christian/Ana/FSoG fan? You are hereby warned. You will probably not like this.

Explanation:

Several commenters on my previous FSoG stories have expressed that they are either baffled or offended that someone who is not a fan of FSoG is writing FSoG fanfiction.

To those who are offended: I will continue to write what I like to write, regardless of your outrage. And, no, I will not post my stories on another site. Just because it's called 'fanfiction' doesn't mean that I have to be a fan to write a story about something. This is just as much my site as it is your site. I feel sorry for you if the mere existence of someone who is not a fan of FSoG writing about FSoG is somehow affecting your life or your enjoyment of other FSoG stories.

Also, yeah, despite disliking the books, I know a lot about FSoG. It's called 'doing research' a.k.a. 'looking up stuff online.' I do it for all of my stories.

Writing FSoG fanfiction as a non-fan has not adversely affected me, by the way. My mental health is fine. Your concern is touching, though!

To those who are baffled: Let's start at the beginning. Why did I read the books? If I don't like them, I simply shouldn't read them, right? This is such a weird argument to me, because how am I supposed to know that I don't like the books when I haven't read them?

So, I read the FSoG books and I didn't like them. I think the books are extremely badly written. I think Ana and Christian's relationship is abusive. I think that Christian is arrogant and manipulative. I think that Ana is snotty and stupid. Yet, I'm writing FSoG fanfiction. Why?

First of all, I like to write fanfiction. Canon can be fun, but it's limited. I like to write about things I would have liked to have seen happen in canon. That is why Christian almost always dies in my stories. It's my way of 'fixing' FSoG. (Note that it is strictly _my opinion _that the books need 'fixing' and that having Christian die is a way of 'fixing' them).

Secondly, the majority of people who read FSoG fanfiction may be fans, but there are also plenty of people who (like me) didn't exactly love the books and are looking for some snark. For my and their enjoyment, I provide them with that snark.

Thirdly, I am amazed by your bafflement. I write 'Beware: I'm not a FSoG fan' in the summary of all my FSoG stories. Therefore, before reading the story, you already know that I am not a fan. You also know that you should 'beware,' which to any functioning literate would read like a warning that I will, at the very least, be critical of a work of fiction and/or fictional characters that you like.

See, when I picked up FSoG, I expected an erotic love story, because that's how the book is marketed. What I got instead was a crappily written depiction of two insufferable idiots in an abusive relationship. You, on the other hand, knew what to expect when you clicked on my story. It's very hard for me to take you seriously when you then proceed to complain in a review that I should not be writing FSoG fanfiction because I'm not a fan. You were informed beforehand and you chose to read my story anyway. You only have yourself to blame for your disappointment.

If you still feel the need to flame: feel free. Seriously, go ahead. Flame away. I neither mind nor care.

**Bleed**

**Chapter 1: Breathe**

'Aren't those a little tight?' Ana asked, eyeing Christian's ass.

'You noticed,' he said, smirking.

'Hard not to. I'd like it if you picked another pair. Something less revealing. You're not going out dressed like that,' Ana decreed. Christian stared at her with open mouth.

'Don't be ridiculous,' he finally protested.

'Am I being ridiculous? Were you being ridiculous yesterday when you told me I couldn't wear my new skirt if I planned to go out?' Ana asked. Coldly, Christian studied her.

'Are you defying me?' he softly warned. Ana rolled her eyes.

'I'm asking you a question,' she said.

'It sounds like you're defying me.'

'It sounds like you're refusing to answer the question. Don't try to turn this into one of our sex games. I'm not in the mood for punishment,' Ana snapped. Christian looked confused. Sighing, Ana got to her feet and approached him.

'Look… My body is yours, right?' Ana asked. Christian nodded. He attempted to pull her closer, but Ana resisted.

'But your body is not mine?' she clarified, sounding annoyed. Christian hesitated before replying.

'You're my submissive; I'm your master. It's different,' he explained. Ana frowned and pushed him away.

'I am your submissive,' she agreed. '_During sex_. You own my body in the bedroom. The rest of the time I'm just your girlfriend, though, and it's not cute when you treat me as property. I was okay with that when I was under the impression that you were mine too. I'm yours and you're mine is endearing. I'm yours and you're not mine is far less endearing.'

'I don't… Are we fighting? What do you want?' he requested, seemingly bewildered.

'I want to be able to wear what I want to wear without you objecting to my clothing choices,' Ana stated. She felt strange saying this. On the other hand, she was really tired of having to seek Christian's approval for everything. Relationships weren't supposed to be like this, were they? Unless it worked both ways and it clearly didn't. Double standards weren't sexy.

'When you go out in a revealing outfit, men gawk at you,' Christian argued.

'Women gawk at you all the time too. What's your point?' Ana countered. Christian raked his hand through his hair, appearing more agitated by the second.

'Those women don't matter, because you're the only one for me.'

'As you are for me,' Ana replied. 'I don't care about other men, so who cares if they stare?'

That wasn't entirely honest. _Ana _cared. She didn't like it when people stared at her. It made her feel self-conscious. However, that was not why Christian was against her wearing short skirts. Thus, it was irrelevant at the moment.

'But I would never do anything with another woman. Other women don't interest me,' Christian asserted.

'That's exactly how I feel about other men. Any other arguments?' Ana inquired. Christian was silent while he racked his brains. Suddenly, his face darkened.

'They could force themselves on you,' he whispered, sounding tortured.

'Yes, they could try. Taylor would break them in half, but they could certainly try,' Ana pleasantly conceded. She did not attempt to explain to Christian how objectionable she found his casual assumption that there was a direct link between wearing revealing clothes and becoming the target of a sexual assault. That was a different conversation for another time.

'I don't understand why you insist on making me jealous,' Christian exclaimed, looking frustrated.

'There's nothing to be jealous about! I barely speak to other men,' Ana sharply retorted. Far be it from her to suggest that Doctor Flynn wasn't doing his job, but – come on! - Dr. Flynn obviously wasn't doing his job. Had therapy managed to do anything for Christian except provide him with excuses for his behaviour? In the time Ana had spent with Christian, she had seen little to no improvement or progress. He was still insanely jealous. As if to prove her point, Christian spoke up.

'I can't help it if I'm jealous,' he claimed while he glared at her. That is just… bullshit, Ana thought, surprising herself. She narrowed her eyes.

'But I can dress differently, is that what you're trying to say? You better not be suggesting that it's my responsibility to rid you of your irrational fears. You can't seriously expect me to change because of your issues,' Ana pointed out. Well, he could, but that would mean that he was crazy. And Christian was not crazy, was he? Fucked up: yes. Crazy: surely not.

'It's a small thing to ask you to wear appropriate attire,' Christian told her.

'First of all, yes, you're right. It's a small thing to ask. However, you're always asking me tiny favours and all of them together do amount to a radical lifestyle and personality alteration. Secondly, who decides what's appropriate? Let me guess: you?'

'I'm afraid that you'll leave me,' Christian explained. His face was contorted as if in pain.

'I see. And that will somehow be prevented if I wear long skirts? I have to tell you: it's starting to feel less like you're horribly insecure, which has nothing to do with me, and more like you assume that I'm a harlot who will just sleep with anyone who makes a pass at me, which also has nothing to do with me. You don't trust me at all, do you?'

Instead of answering her, Christian took out the unhappy childhood card.

'My mother…' he began. Not this again, Ana thought. It was a reprehensible thought. Completely unlike her. Yet, there it was. It wasn't that she minded listening to Christian talk about his childhood. It was that she found his interpretation of events increasingly problematic. Yes, his childhood had been traumatic. By all accounts, though, his mother had done the best she could. She had not left him; she had _died_. She was not to blame for his abandonment issues. Furthermore, smothering people was the quickest way to scare them away. You'd think that Doctor Flynn would have taught Christian that at some point.

'I'm not your mother. I'm me. And I wish you'd stop treating me like a problem that needs solving. Why won't you give me the space I need to breathe? Why won't you just let me be me?' Ana pleaded, interrupting Christian's lamenting. Speechless, he looked at her.

'Either you change into another pair of pants right now or you never get to tell me what to wear ever again,' she concluded. Without waiting to see how Christian would react, Ana went in search of a snack. That felt good, she realised on her way to the kitchen. To speak her mind. To stand up for herself. Being assertive still felt a little unreal, but it also felt amazing. Time would tell whether this was a victory, but it was at the very least a step in the right direction.


	2. Catalyst

**Bleed**

**Chapter 2: Catalyst**

Surprise, surprise: Christian didn't change into another pair of pants. That was okay, though. Ana had neither expected nor really wanted him to. She didn't want to tell him what to do; she wanted him to _stop_ telling her what to do. She wanted autonomy.

Christian glared at her, smug in his refusal. Ana shrugged.

'Alright,' she said. 'Remember this moment.'

(***)

One week later.

It was a beautiful day. Cold, but clear. Ana was out on the balcony, enjoying the fresh air. That was when Christian appeared. His lips were pursed. Disapproval radiated from him like heat waves.

'Go inside, you're wearing next to nothing. Anyone can see you.'

Ana hadn't realised how flimsy the material of her dressing gown was and how the sunlight outlined her naked body underneath for everyone to see. Well, everyone who was out on the street early on a Sunday morning and looking up through a pair of binoculars. So, basically no one. Still, Ana suddenly felt exposed. However, Christian's commanding tone achieved the opposite of its intended effect: it made her want to stay outside despite her own misgivings.

She was feeling rather rebellious lately. Disobeying Christian was becoming almost a regular thing. Though Ana realised that it was telling that she still thought of it as 'disobeying.' Criminals disobey police officers. Children disobey parents. Dogs disobey masters. She was none of these things, yet the feeling prevailed. A feeling of doing something wrong. She hated it.

'Oh, for fuck's sake. I'm wearing a dressing gown. Quit acting like I'm naked,' Ana scoffed. The rush of adrenaline that followed was so intoxicating that it completely eclipsed the nonsensical thought that she was being bad. She was in the process of discovering how glorious it could feel to disobey Christian.

'Get inside,' Christian ordered. Ana shook her head.

'You will do as I say,' Christian hissed. His voice shook with barely contained rage.

'Stop trying to control me. I'm sick and tired of it,' Ana hissed back. Christian moved forwards as if to grab her. Ana quickly moved away from him. She felt the railing of the balcony against her back.

'I'm staying out here until I decide that I want to come in,' she informed Christian. He scowled. His face and hands were twitching.

'Ana…'

'If you touch me, if you in any way try to make me leave this spot, I will exceed your every expectation,' Ana warned. Oh God, what am I saying, she thought. Her words gave Christian pause too.

'What is that supposed to mean?' he asked.

'I'll leave,' she declared, pausing to take a deep breath. 'And I'll never come back.'

'You don't mean that. You wouldn't do that,' Christian claimed. A panicky note had crept into his voice. It was patently obvious that he did not believe himself.

'Watch me,' Ana replied. She steeled herself for the inevitable. She knew Christian: he couldn't bear it when she stood up to him. She was right. Christian's hand shot out and grabbed her arm. It made her want to cry. He did not care. He simply did not care about her or her opinions or her desires.

'Let go,' she requested, using her other arm to hold onto the railing. Whatever happened, she was _not_ letting him take her inside. Christian smirked and tightened his grip.

'You're hurting me,' Ana pointed out.

'If you'd just listen to me, none of this would be necessary,' Christian muttered. That was when he began to pull in an attempt to drag her inside with force. His fingertips dug into her arm. The pain was sharp and intense.

'Let me go!' she shouted.

'I will never let you go,' Christian bit at her.

'Is there a problem?' Taylor asked politely, materialising out of nowhere. It was as if he knew she'd been about to call out for him.

'No,' Christian responded, immediately letting go. Ana backed away from him.

'Yes,' she said. She rubbed her arm. Bruises were already blooming on her pale skin. Taylor studied them. Ana saw something in his eyes that she had never seen there before. It would have been scary if she hadn't been sure that Taylor would never hurt her. Unlike other people.

'How can I help you, Ana?' Taylor inquired. Christian might as well have been air. Taylor didn't so much as spare him a glance.

'You can… drive me to Kate. Would you do that for me?'

'It will be my pleasure,' Taylor answered. He smiled his familiar, warm smile. Hesitantly, Ana returned his smile. She didn't even dare to look at Christian. She didn't need a visual. She was perfectly capable of imagining the expression on his face.

'You're fired,' Christian whispered. Ana almost didn't understand him; so softly did he say it. Taylor didn't respond.

'Did you hear me? You lost your job. I won't finance Sophie's schooling anymore. What do you have to say about that? How does that make you feel?' Christian ranted, triumphantly. Taylor showed a flicker of anger upon hearing Sophie's name, but otherwise he remained completely calm.

'I'm crying on the inside, sir,' he deadpanned. Ana stifled a giggle before being horrified by the inappropriateness of her reaction.

'I'm so sorry, Taylor,' she said. Taylor shook his head, as if apologies weren't needed.

'Don't worry about it. Do you want to change before we go?'

It was more of a suggestion than a question. Ana realised that she was still wearing her thin dressing gown and blushed.

'Yes. I'll change and pack a bag. I'll be quick,' she promised. Taylor nodded. Without looking at Christian, Ana hurried to her room. Behind her, she heard footsteps. Then what sounded like a very brief struggle. Then Taylor.

'It's over. A wise man would accept defeat.'


	3. Home

**Bleed**

**Chapter 3: Home**

In the end, Ana didn't pack anything. Surveying her bedroom, she realised that there was not a single item in the room that was hers. The clothes were paid for by Christian. The laptop was his. The Blackberry was his. Everything in the room was his.

No, Ana mentally corrected herself; I'm not. She smiled. So, she simply changed into Kate's plum dress – why had she never returned it? – and exited the room. Taylor raised an eyebrow when she came back without a bag.

'There's nothing here that I want,' Ana explained, staring pointedly at Christian. He was quietly seething. She had trouble controlling her mirth. This was all feeling fantastic. It would probably not feel like that forever. All the more reason to enjoy it now.

'After you,' Taylor said, escorting her to the door. Ana noticed that he subtly kept his body between Christian and her at all times. Standard bodyguard stuff, she thought, until she pictured the same situation without Taylor. If Taylor wasn't here, she would not be walking out of Escala. Standing in front of the elevator, Ana touched his arm to get his attention. He turned towards her.

'I'm so happy that you're here,' she told him. She didn't quite know how else to express her gratitude. Taylor seemed to get it. He nodded. They rode the elevator down in silence. Ana felt as if she was about to burst with happiness. That was why it came as such a shock when they got to the car and she broke down. It happened as she clipped her seatbelt into place. Out of nowhere, she started to sob.

It was the ugliest of crying too. Loud, snot-filled, nearly hysterical bawling. It was immensely embarrassing, which made her cry even harder. Everything was terrible, until Taylor placed a hand on her shoulder and handed her a huge handkerchief.

'Thanks,' Anna blubbered through her tears. She glanced up to find Taylor looking at her.

'I'm sorry,' she muttered, waving the handkerchief around to indicate what she was apologising for. Being a mess; making a scene. Taylor slowly shook his head, as if disagreeing.

'Nothing to be sorry about,' he gently replied. It was so nice that Ana almost began to cry again. This time she managed to stop herself, though. Get a grip, she admonished herself. She pulled herself together as well as she could. Taylor started the drive to Kate's apartment. Occasionally, they talked. About Sophie, whether Taylor would be able to get a new job (he told her not to worry about that) and about how Kate would react to all of this.

It was comfortable in a way that talking to Christian had never been. Just two people telling each other about their lives. No pressure, no threats, no strain. When they arrived at Kate's, Ana was almost sorry to say goodbye.

'I don't know how to thank you. If you hadn't been there, I don't know what… Thank you, Taylor. Thank you so much.'

'Jason. I call you Ana; you call me Jason?' he proposed. Ana grinned,

'That sounds reasonable. Jason. I like it,' she said. Then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Taylor didn't flush. Wait, no, _Jason_ didn't flush. He was too unflappable for that. Yet, he did smile in an unfamiliar manner. Sort of half-pleased, half-embarrassed. Ana unfastened her seatbelt when something occurred to her.

'Would it be alright if I called you? To see how you're doing? To ask about Sophie?' she inquired, hesitantly. It would be a shame if this was it. They were just getting to know each other.

'Of course,' he replied and handed her his business card. She accepted it and turned to go, but Jason took her wrist into his hand. Either he has really big hands or I have really tiny wrists, Ana thought. He held her wrist so loosely that she could have slipped out of his grasp with minimal effort.

'If Christian gives you trouble…' he began, but Ana interrupted him.

'I have your number.'

He smiled at that and tapped her wrist before letting go. She waved as he drove away. She kept her smile in place until he had disappeared from sight. Then her face fell. She felt old and tired. I should pay more attention to my body, she realised. It knew what it wanted. All she needed to do was listen. It was time to get to know her body as well as Christian had claimed to know it. And right now her body wanted sleep.

(***)

Sunday evening.

'Ana? How are you feeling?' Kate asked, brushing Ana's hair away from her face and perching on the edge of the bed. Ana had written a short note to explain what had happened before going to bed. She considered the question.

'Is it supposed to hurt?' she finally asked. After all, Kate had experience in this area. Relationships, break ups etc.

'Kinda, yeah,' Kate admitted, sounding apologetic. 'Breakups are rarely easy. Do you wanna borrow my ugly, pink pyjamas and eat ice cream?'

Ana nodded. Kate presented the pyjamas in question to her with a curtsy, which made Ana giggle and reminded her of another item of clothing.

'Hey, I brought back your dress. Can you believe that I still had it?' she remarked. Kate smiled, but her smile immediately faded when she noticed the bruises on Ana's arm.

'Christian did that?'

'Yes,' Ana said, grimacing at the memory. Her arm was stiff and sore. Kate's nostrils flared. It was faintly horse-like and, yet, did nothing to diminish Kate's beauty. For the first time ever, Ana wondered if she was maybe a little bit gay. Maybe that was what her body was trying to tell her whenever she admired Kate's attractive features.

'It's official. I hate him,' Kate announced. 'You can tell me everything over ice cream.'

(***)

Sunday night. Several pints of ice cream later.

'What you're saying is that he refers to his biological mother as 'the crack whore' and that he has spend his adult life beating and having sex with women who look like her. No, that isn't disturbing at all,' Kate summarised, sarcastically. It sounded especially bad when Kate said it. Though, to be fair, she wasn't twisting Ana's words. That was how it had been.

'I thought he was like Angel, but he turned out to be more like Alec,' Ana muttered. Kate raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.

'But… they're both dicks,' she protested. 'Seriously, Ana, did you _read_ Tess of the D'Urbervilles? Alec rapes her and Angel decides that she is not pure enough for him after that, despite having sex with a prostitute himself. They are both awful.'

Ana blinked. Rape? She tried to remember reading that and couldn't. She opened her mouth to argue, but Kate was too fast.

'No, Hardy didn't explicitly state that Alec raped Tess, but the text heavily implies that that's what happened,' she explained. How horrible, Ana thought. She felt even worse when she remembered how she had bantered about Angel and Alec with Christian. Had Christian known? He might have. He certainly enjoyed having conversations with her wherein she didn't truly understand what they were talking about. With a shudder, she recalled their conversation in the hardware store.

'Next you're going to tell me that Heathcliff is a… dick,' Ana joked, almost whispering the last word.

'He is. But Cathy is too, so it evens out,' Kate replied. Her delivery was so dry, so matter-of-fact, that Ana simply couldn't help it: she started to laugh. Kate soon joined her. They laughed until they cried. For a short while, Ana managed to forget all about Jason's parting words.

_If Christian gives you trouble…_


	4. Wreck of the day

_Author's note: Just to clarify. This takes place during the end of __Fifty Shades Darker. Ana and Christian are not married. Kate has just returned from her vacation with Elliot._

**Bleed**

**Chapter 4: Wreck of the day**

Monday morning.

The alarm went off. Ana lifted her head, groaned and gently lowered it again. Despite not drinking the night before, she felt hungover. The alarm kept blaring. Instead of hitting the snooze button or shutting it off entirely, Ana buried her face in her pillow to muffle the sound

I'm supposed to feel great, she tried to tell herself. It was no use. Never mind that she was genuinely glad to be rid of Christian: she felt miserable. She missed his warm body. She missed his voice. She missed the way he made her feel sometimes. Desirable. Intelligent. _Deserving. _

The alarm wouldn't let up, so Ana stuffed the corners of her pillow into her ears and continued to feel sad. I could call, she thought, only to squash that thought as quickly as possible. Yes, she could and what would that accomplish? Reuniting would send the message that he could do whatever he wanted, because she'd just come crawling back anyway.

'No, I'm not going to call,' she resolved, feeling better immediately. It freaked her out, though. Even to be considering calling him felt like a relapse. It was true that he could make her feel sexy and smart and worthy – and she shouldn't need him to make her feel like that – but he could also make her feel slutty and stupid and scared.

Irritated by her gloominess, Ana finally got up and prepared for work.

(***)

At SIP. 12:15

The first day post break up was coming along nicely. Ana had already gotten a lot of work done. Probably because I'm not consumed by Christian's emails, she realised. She was thinking about breaking for lunch when she received a call from Claire at reception.

'There's someone for you here,' Claire cryptically announced.

'Who?' Ana demanded, a lot more brusquely than normal.

'I don't know,' Claire confessed.

'It's a man,' she added, unhelpfully. Ana's scalp tingled with something that felt like panic. What if it was Christian? What if he made a scene? What if he had replaced Jason with someone who wouldn't mind shoving someone in the back of an unmarked van? Calm down, Ana, she warned, but it was difficult to dismiss the racing of her heart and the pricking of her thumbs.

'What does he look like?' she asked. 'Is he a ginger?'

'No, he has black hair. Wait a second. What? Oh, he says that he's supposed to deliver them to you personally. Should I send him up?' Claire inquired.

'Them?'

'The flowers. He's holding a huge, beautiful bouquet.'

'I'll come down,' Ana replied. And reluctantly she did. The flowers were gorgeous. Enormous roses that looked like they couldn't be real, but somehow were. She read the attached card. It was classic Christian: manipulative and commanding.

_I can't live without you. Come back to me. Please. _

_Christian._

The 'please' was so clearly an afterthought that Ana chuckled. The delivery guy tried to hand the bouquet to her, but she wouldn't take it. She told him that accepting the roses would sent the wrong signal. The delivery man in turn told her that he would pass on to the customer who had paid for the bouquet that she had refused it, but that he was not leaving with it. He was weirdly aggressive about giving it to her and Ana was adamant about not taking it from him. She was done taking shit from men. They stood there in that peculiar deadlock situation for a while, until Ana asked Claire if she wanted the bouquet. Claire did. Problem solved.

(***)

At SIP. 13:05.

'Ana Steele, Commissioning Editor of Seattle Independent Publishing, how may I help you?'

'Why didn't you accept my apology?'

'Because you didn't apologise,' Ana replied.

'Those were very expensive roses, Anastasia. Specially cultivated and…'

'I don't care.'

'Excuse me?' Christian stammered. He sounded confused and on the verge of anger. Basically like he always sounds, Ana cynically thought.

'An apology contains the word 'sorry' usually preceded by the contraction 'I'm.' Your note contained neither: thus, it is not an apology. And the flowers, however costly they may have been, don't count either,' Ana explained. Then she ended the call.

(***)

At SIP. 13:10 to 17:30.

13:10

'It's more flowers,' Claire said. Ana rubbed her temples and allowed Claire to inform her that another delivery man was waiting. Ana asked Claire to tell him to go away, because she was not coming. Christian reacted by cranking up the pressure. That was what it felt like, at least. Pressure. Pressure to do what he wanted. Pressure to give him what he wanted. Pressure to submit.

Throughout the rest of the day, flowers continued to pour in. Ana didn't respond to this onslaught of unwanted attention – except by sending everything back unseen and untouched. Christian's obtrusiveness was making it very easy for her to stick to her resolve.

At the end of the day, Ana was exhausted. She had worked an extra half hour to make up for having the deal with all the nonsense of the deliveries. It had made her realise one thing: she could not continue to work at SIP. She doubted that, once Christian officially took over the company, he would be mature about his ex-girlfriend working there. Besides, she didn't want any part of her life to be under his control anymore.

When she noticed that Elizabeth was also still present, Ana knocked against the doorframe of Elizabeth's office. Elizabeth looked up.

'Can I have a word?' Ana asked. Absentmindedly, Elizabeth beckoned for Ana to enter.

'Sit down. What is it?'

Ana cleared her throat. Was she really doing this? Was she really giving up her dream job? Definitely. It was not her dream job if Christian was involved.

'I am resigning,' Ana stated. Elizabeth snapped to attention suddenly and frowned.

'Is this about what happened with Jack Hyde?' she inquired. Ana seized the offered explanation with both hands.

'Yes. Yes, I'm sure that I would have loved it here had it not been for the incident with Jack. As it is, I will allow you time to fill my position, but once you have appointed a replacement I will leave. I'm sorry. I feel really bad about the way things have turned out, but I can't possibly continue to work here. Too many memories.'

Elizabeth murmured in agreement. Ana was already getting to her feet when Elizabeth urged her to stay because there was something else that needed to be discussed. Now it was Ana's turn to frown.

'It has come to my attention that you've been sending an inordinate amount of personal emails,' Elizabeth said. She pulled a stack of papers out of one of her desk drawers. The top paper consisted of printed out emails. _My_ emails, Ana realised with mounting horror. Her eyes widened. Her cheeks burned. Noticing Ana's embarrassment, Elizabeth softened somewhat.

'The content is not the issue. Honestly, I couldn't care less about what's in these emails. What bothers me is that you're spending time reading and writing them when you should be working. If you want to catch up on your personal correspondence, do it during your lunch break. Don't do it on company time. For the remainder of your time here, I expect you to do what you're paid to do, Ana. No more private emails when you're supposed to be working. Understood?'

Mortified, Ana nodded.

'I understand. It won't happen again,' she promised. Satisfied, Elizabeth removed the stack and returned it to her desk drawer.

'For future reference, company mail is subject to monitoring by the IT department,' Elizabeth cautioned. 'If you do not want your emails to be read, I suggest that you send them via your own email address and not the company's. Of course, our techs also track internet traffic, so they will still be able to see if you're sending personal emails at inappropriate times; they just won't be able to access the content of those emails.'

Ana nodded again and actually jumped up when her phone rang.

'I should get that,' she mumbled, fleeing Elizabeth's office. God, that was humiliating, Ana thought. Her first proper chewing out! She picked up the phone, but didn't even get a change to reel off her standard phone call opening.

'Why are you still at work?' Christian interrogated. 'Is something wrong? Do you need help? Do you want a ride?'

Ana sighed. Maybe being brutally honest would do the trick? Ordinarily, her characteristic timidity would have prevented her from doing speaking her mind. It was not Ana's forte. Being direct had never been. Sometimes it was necessary, though. Plus, being blunt had its perks. There was no room for misunderstandings and it made her feel strong.

'I want you to listen very carefully to what I am about to say. Alright?'

She waited for him to respond.

'Yes,' he whispered, his voice low and soft. He was attempting to intimidate her with a single word. She rolled her eyes and squared her shoulders.

'Stop sending me things at work. Stop sending me things, period. I want you to leave me alone. That's what I want. That's _all_ I want. Goodbye, Christian.'

Trembling, Ana put down the receiver. Her hands were shaking. She didn't know why. Anger, fear, relief, plain old fatigue? Could be any of those things. She knew that taking a stance would not be enough. Christian would not be deterred. Winning her back was probably just another challenge for him. He needed to break her resistance, like you would break a horse. Tame her for his amusement whether she wanted to be tamed or not.

Still trembling, Ana dialled a different number to balance things out. She wanted to have a phone conversation with someone whom she knew would listen.

'Jason Taylor speaking.'

'Wow, formal. It's Ana.'

'Hi Ana,' Jason greeted her. He sounded happy to hear from her, which was comforting. Yes, he'd said that she was free to call him, but she'd speculated that the next day might have been too fast.

'Hi,' she said. Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. To Ana's surprise, it wasn't uncomfortable.

'It's a little soon to be asking, but have you had any luck with finding a new job? I hope that you're doing better than I am in the work department, at least,' she said.

'How come?'

'Oh, I was just reprimanded by my boss and the worst thing about it was that I completely deserved it,' Ana related.

'I find that hard to believe,' Jason responded.

'Well, believe it. I had it coming. How's the job hunt going?' she inquired.

'It's going,' Jason replied, stoically.

'I want to thank you again for what you did,' Ana explained.

'I didn't do anything,' he objected.

'Yes, you did! You were great. There's no doubt in my mind that you, allow me to be dramatic here, saved me.'

'Okay, yes, I was awesome,' Jason capitulated, laughing. His laugh was deep and warm.

'You were,' Ana agreed, seriously. 'You really were.'

Another silence fell. Jason's breathing on the other end was steady and immensely heartening. Ana couldn't express how cheering it was.

'It's time to give myself over to public transport again,' she finally declared.

'Any plans to purchase a car yet?'

'I simply haven't had the time yet. I'll probably try this weekend. Why?' Ana asked.

'Maybe you won't have to. Would it be alright if I come by on Friday evening?'

'Of course.'

They said goodbye. Ana realised as she put down the phone that she hadn't asked him anything about his daughter. Rude, she chided herself. Her hands had stopped shaking during their talk. She felt ready to take on the world again.

'Come at me,' she whispered, thinking of a particular CEO trying to control her. She remembered reading that taunt on urban dictionary, but it sounded slightly ridiculous out of her mouth.

'Do your worst,' she experimented. That did sound convincing. Confident. She almost wished for Christian to make his next move. He would get more than he had bargained for. She was not mousy, naïve Ana anymore.


	5. In my head

** Bleed**

** Chapter 5: In my head**

Monday evening.

'I'm a victim of love,' Ana joked.

'Of obsession, more accurately,' Kate cynically replied.

'Maybe he thinks it's romantic?' Ana suggested, eyeing the pile of gift boxes in front of their apartment. Kate sighed.

'Giving you crap you clearly said you don't want is the opposite of romantic. It's fucked up. _He _is fucked up,' she pointed out. Fifty shades of fucked up, Ana thought. Why hadn't she listened when he'd said that? Why had that not alarmed her? Why had her reaction been: oh, you poor baby? That was not an appropriate response. Why had she not thought: get the hell away from me? What was wrong with her?

'I knew that before. He told me. This is my fault,' Ana mumbled. Kate shook her head and gently squeezed Ana's shoulder.

'Hey, none of this is your fault. Nobody is making him do this. He told you that he was dangerous? And that you should stay away from him?'

Ana's head snapped up. She hadn't shared that with Kate.

'How did you know?'

'It's textbook. He tells you that to relieve himself of responsibility. Whatever he does after that is then your fault for not leaving. Be honest: did he blame you when he hurt you?' Kate inquired. Ana squirmed. This felt like a real interrogation and in all likelihood Kate wasn't even aware of doing it. The journalist inside her just never switched off. I wish I had a journalist inside of me, Ana thought. Okay, not like _that_, she amended. She wagered that an investigative journalist would be more useful than a horny inner goddess and a prudish subconscious.

'Can we talk about something else, please?' Ana requested. Kate took pity on her and turned her attention towards their cluttered doorstep again.

'So, you don't want to keep any of this?' she asked, indicating the gift boxes with a sweeping gesture. Ana had opened a few of them. They contained clothes, electronica, jewellery and books.

'I'd really rather not,' Ana admitted. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Christian that she didn't want anything from him. The fact that he hadn't respected her wishes came as no surprise. Just the sight of all of this stuff made Ana feel nauseous. What a waste!

'Fair enough,' Kate said. 'What are you going to do with it? Return it?'

'I did that with the flowers and he didn't get the message. I'm done. I don't want to expend any more time and energy on this than is absolutely necessary. Do you know if there's a thrift store nearby?'

Kate snickered and nodded. Together, they started to load as much of the boxes into Kate's car as it would hold. It was a tight fit, but, luckily, they managed to get every single one in there. The thrift store personnel was super happy with their donation.

'There was a laptop in there. And your Blackberry. That's a lot of money.'

'He's filthy rich. I doubt he'll even notice. Oh, that reminds me. I need to buy a new phone,' Ana remarked. They stopped on the way home to get one. On the road again, Kate was still on the subject of the gifts.

'Don't you think Christian is going to be pissed off?' she cautiously brought up.

'Probably. Everything pisses him off,' Ana said flippantly. She wasn't quite feeling the devil may care attitude she was projecting. When would this be over?

(***)

Back at the apartment, Kate focused on Ana with laser like precision and intensity. It was simultaneously awe-inspiring and scary.

'Okay, I know that you basically told me to shut up, but I think that we should talk about this. I want to make sure that you know that all of this is not okay. The bruises on your arm are not okay. Christian harassing you at work is not okay. Those gifts are not okay,' Kate summed up.

'I know,' Ana mumbled.

'But do you really?'

Kate's scepticism was almost tangible. Ana rolled her eyes.

'Christian wants control over everything. It's a BDSM thing….'

'No!' Kate exclaimed, startling Ana.

'It doesn't mean jack shit that he's into BDSM. He doesn't get to do anything without your consent. If you don't agree to punishment, like when he grabbed your arm, it's physical abuse. If you do agree to the punishment, he still has to follow the rules outlined in the contract. Otherwise, it's abuse. If he ignores a safe word, it's – say it with me! – abuse. And that also goes for all of the emotional manipulation he's subjected you to. It's not BDSM and it's not okay. Please don't let him fool you or guilt trip you into thinking anything else. God, I wish you'd gone to the police. It's not too late. We could still go. I'd come with you.'

It hadn't been that bad, Ana thought. Sure, it had been bad, but not let's-involve-the-police bad. Furthermore, there had been extenuating circumstances.

'You don't understand, Kate. The first few years of Christian's life were really rough,' Ana explained. Rendered momentarily speechless, Kate sat down. Well, it was more like she fell over and a chair happened to be behind her. She seemed actually winded, as if someone had punched her in the stomach, robbing her of oxygen for a minute. Finally, she recovered and spoke.

'You know who else had an awful childhood and managed to come out the other end miraculously not an asshole? Elliot.'

Ana stared at her best friend. That obviously couldn't be true.

'But Elliot's normal,' Ana protested, adding a tentative, 'He _is_ normal, right?'

'No one's normal, but I know what you mean. Oh, he's got a few kinks, so plenty of kinky fuckery for me. But he doesn't inflict his misery on others like Christian does. Elliot is well-adjusted. He wasn't always, though. He worked hard to overcome his issues. I think the difference between Elliot and Christian is that Elliot realises that a troubled childhood does not absolve him from any wrongdoing. He's an adult and as such he, and he alone, is responsible for his actions. Plus, I wouldn't put up with any shit and he knows it.'

'But I thought you loved him?' Ana whispered.

'I do, very much, but it's not a given. If Elliot tried to pull any of the crap Christian pulled with you, I'd leave him in a heartbeat. Don't look so shocked, Ana. Just because I demand to be treated with respect doesn't mean that I don't love him. Unconditional love is for suckers.'

Now Ana had to sit down too. Loving someone didn't mean staying with them no matter what? So, she hadn't failed? Because honestly: she had talked the tough talk and walked the tough walk, but she hadn't felt tough. She'd felt like a loser. Like she hadn't loved Christian enough.

And here was Elliot. Who was nice. To everyone. Who worshiped Kate and didn't try to run her life. How could that be? Did Christian know about Elliot's childhood? No, Christian doesn't know, Ana realised. He thought that Elliot was a buffoon who'd had an easy life. Ana looked at Kate.

'Christian thinks that Elliot is…'

'Dumb?' Kate provided. Ana nodded, apologetically.

'Yeah, we know. Christian thinks that Elliot is an idiot and Elliot knows that Christian is a jerk.'

'Well…,' Ana said. 'I need to process this.'

'You do that,' Kate agreed, getting to her feet and walking over to the bookcase. She appeared to be searching for something specific. Eventually, she plucked a book from its shelves and presented it to Ana. Curious, Ana studied the book. It was called The Gift of Fear: Survival Signs That Protect Us From Violence and was written by Gavin de Becker.

'I'm going to give you something now. Read it when you're ready. I sincerely hope that your life will never be the same again after reading it,' Kate announced with an air of solemnity, handing the book to Ana. Bemused, Ana nodded. Kate was a great friend. I'm sure she'd like to be having sex with Elliot right now, Ana thought; and instead she is educating me about suitable boyfriend behaviour. Feeling a little guilty about cramping Kate's style, Ana vowed to move out soon.

'About me living here: I'll find a new job and my own apartment. I'll be out of your hair in no time, I promise.'

Kate waved that away.

'Pff, what's the rush? You can stay as long as you want. It's fine.'

(***)

Tuesday.

Ana arrived at work earlier than usual, because she wanted to apologise to Claire and explain what to do if Christian tried to interfere with her work again.

'I'm sorry about yesterday, Claire.'

'Oh, it's okay. I don't mind,' Claire immediately responded.

'That's nice of you to say, but it's not okay. You shouldn't have to deal with my personal life. I hope that it won't happen again, but it might. If anyone shows up here today on a non-SIP related matter, please tell them that they will not be seeing me or speaking to me. I don't care who it is. If they're not here for business, they can leave their card with you if they want to, but that's it,' Ana instructed. Turning to leave, she heard Claire cough discreetly and Ana swivelled to face the receptionist.

'What if it's Mr. Grey himself?'

'Frankly, Claire, I don't give a damn. Tell him the same thing you tell everyone else,' Ana replied. It gave her a kick to say that, however impractical it was as advice. Christian acted like he owned the company. He would barge right past Claire. We'll cross that hurdle when we get to it, Ana thought.

Tuesday passed without incidents. Christian didn't attempted to contact her again, which Ana found disconcerting. She knew him, after all. He wouldn't give up that easily. Rhett Butler, though definitely pushy, had nothing on Christian Grey.

(***)

Wednesday morning.

The time on the alarm clock indicated that Ana should have been out of bed half an hour ago. I must have forgotten to set the alarm, she thought. She scrambled out of bed with an uneasy feeling. Something was not the way it was supposed to be. Unable to find an explanation for her apprehension, Ana chalked it up to having just woken up and hurried to the bathroom to take a quick shower. She glanced into the mirror. Well, it started out as a glance, but what she saw made her come to a halt in front of the mirror.

He was here, Ana thought. A frisson of fear ran down her spine.

'Don't be stupid,' she mumbled. There was a perfectly rational explanation for this. She'd had a few drinks the night before and she'd forgotten. Except, she vividly remembered every little thing she'd done in preparation for sleep. She had routines that were almost rituals and she rarely deviated from them. Still, there had to be a ridiculously simple solution for this, because this _was_ ridiculous. People didn't do this. People didn't break laws to do something this silly. Gripping the sink with whitening knuckles, willing herself to believe that this was not Christian's doing, Ana stared at her wide-eyed reflection.

Her hair had been loose when she'd gone to bed; but it was now in a braid.


	6. The lullaby singer

**Bleed**

**Chapter 6: The lullaby singer**

Unable to restrain herself, Ana yanked the elastic off the end of the braid and raked her hands through her hair until it was a wild, tangled mess. This can't be true; there has to be a reasonable explanation for this, she thought again.

'Kate,' she called out. Maybe Kate, for some reason… That didn't make sense. _You know who did it_, Ana thought. When Kate didn't answer, Ana got very nervous. She headed for Kate's bedroom; half-expecting to find her best friend bound and gagged on the floor. Kate wasn't there. Still entertaining the idle hope that Kate would provide a non-scary answer for the existence of the braid, Ana quickly exited the house. She caught Kate as she was about to get into her car.

'Um, Kate? Weird question maybe, but did you by any chance braid my hair?'

Kate shook her head. She looked confused for a moment before striding around the apartment once and ending her inspection by checking the front door.

'No signs of forced entry on any of the windows or doors. How did he get in?' Kate wondered out loud. Despite Kate not saying his name, there was no doubt in Ana's mind that they were talking about Christian.

'I don't know,' Ana whispered. How awful was this? Why would he do this? She simply didn't get it. If he loved her, like he said, and if he wanted her back, why would he scare her like this?

'Could he have made copies of your keys?' Kate inquired. Ana hesitated. Wasn't that one step too far, even for Christian?

'He _could_ have,' she reluctantly admitted. They looked at each other.

'That's it. We're calling the police,' Kate decided.

'Wait,' Ana objected. 'Is that really a good idea? Won't they think that this is silly?'

Kate stared at her as if Ana came from another planet.

'Silly? This is beyond creepy! This is terrifying. He was in our apartment while we were asleep. I'm calling the police right now,' Kate ranted. Of course she is right, Ana knew. All the same, Ana did not want Kate to call the police, so she lied.

'I'll do it. You go on and get to work. I'll call the police. This is my mess. I'll handle it,' Ana reassured Kate, wincing with every word. Later, Ana often asked herself if things might have turned out differently if she'd informed the authorities. Maybe. Maybe not.

(***)

Half an hour later.

The locksmith arrived and promptly changed the locks. I'm so late for work, Ana realised. She texted Elizabeth and promised her an excellent explanation for her absence in person. Then she did something stupid. Acting on an impulse, Ana stopped by Esclava on her way to work.

'Do you have an appointment, miss?' the receptionist politely inquired. Spotting Mrs. Robinson, Ana waved.

'Hi, Elena!' she exclaimed, cringing on the inside. God, I'm being such a liar today, she thought. Mrs. Robinson raised an eyebrow and approached them.

'Anastasia, what are you doing here?' Mrs. Robinson asked, extending her hand, which Ana pretended not to notice. She was not going to shake hand with the woman. Bad enough that Ana had to be here in the presence of pure evil.

'Getting a haircut, I hope,' Ana responded, laughing with false cheer. 'Can you squeeze me in?'

'Sure. It'll have to be me, though, if you don't mind. Everyone else is engaged,' Mrs. Robinson announced. It made Ana want to back out. She did not want this child molester touching her. Ignoring her misgivings, Ana slid into a chair and smiled.

'That's fine. Could we make it quick?'

'Whatever you want. What did you have in mind?'

'I was thinking about a pixie cut,' Ana said. Nothing to braid, she thought.

'I don't think… It wouldn't suit the shape of your face, I'm afraid,' Mrs. Robinson explained, smiling as if her skin had been tucked a little too tightly behind her ears the last time she'd visited her plastic surgeon.

'I'll be the judge of that, won't I?' Ana sweetly replied. Mrs. Robinson nodded reluctantly and picked up a pair of scissors. She stood behind Ana and sought out Ana's eyes in the mirror. Unflinching, Ana met her gaze. They remained frozen in place until Mrs. Robinson finally averted her eyes. She turned the chair and leaned down to address Ana.

'Christian won't like that,' Mrs. Robinson declared. Heaving an irritated sigh, Ana reached for the scissors.

'Give me those,' she demanded, when Mrs. Robinson refused to let go of them. Once Mrs. Robinson relinquished her hold on the scissors, it was easy. Ana snipped three, four, five times. Enormous, imprecise snips; intending to get rid of as much hair as possible without caring about the model. When she was satisfied, she handed the scissors back to Mrs. Robinson.

'That feels better already. Well, work your magic,' Ana happily instructed. Looking as if she'd taken a huge bite out of a lemon, Mrs. Robinson went to work. Physical contact was kept to a strict minimum. Occasionally, however, the older woman had to touch Ana's hair. Unbidden, that brought back vague and unpleasant memories. Ana froze. She remembered Christian softly singing something soothing last night. Had she woken up while he was braiding her hair? Had he been singing to her as if she was a child?

Suddenly, Ana was on the verge of crying. Swallowing, she tried to repress a shiver. I'll call Jason, she told herself. He'll know what to do. Slowly, she relaxed and managed to look at herself in the mirror. I'll call Jason and everything will be alright, Ana repeated, believing herself for the first time that day.


	7. Sort of Delilah

**Bleed**

**Chapter 7: Sort of Delilah**

Still Wednesday morning. On the way to work.

Her new haircut felt pretty fantastic. Ana felt light and free without the weight of all that hair. She couldn't stop running her hands through what was left of her hair to feel the difference. However, she couldn't forget that Christian was the reason behind this change. Whatever she did, Ana couldn't shake the feeling that she was letting him down. Worse, that she was betraying him. Like Delilah, she thought; except I had my own hair cut and that's obviously not a good comparison. In an attempt to properly put Christian out of her mind, Ana fulfilled a promise to herself and called Jason.

'Hi Jason.'

'Aren't you supposed to be working right now, Ana? I wouldn't want to be the cause of you getting into trouble with your boss again,' Jason pointed out. Considerate, Ana noted.

'No, I'm not at work yet,' she tried to reassure him, but inadvertently she did the opposite.

'Did something happen?' he immediately asked. His voice was laced with concern. She explained what Christian had done and how she had reacted.

'You didn't report the incident to the police? I know that it's not my place, but you really should, Ana. Please do that in the future,' Jason urged. In the future? Ana responded with a tiny voice.

'You think there'll be a next time?' she asked.

'Don't you?' he countered.

'Yes,' she reluctantly admitted. At that point, it seemed like there was little else to discuss, so they ended the call after Jason told her not to hesitate to call if she needed his help. Feeling blue, Ana stared out of the window of the bus. Was there nothing she could do to make this go away? She turned the matter over in her mind, but the answer stubbornly remained negative.

Her phone rang. Ana looked at the display. It was an unknown number which made sense because Ana had only entered a few essential numbers under contacts. Christian, she thought. Somehow he had gotten hold of her new phone number. She let the phone ring; ignoring the looks of other passengers. Eventually, her phone stopped ringing.

She breathed a sigh of relief, but then the phone started up again. Fumbling for it, she answered it.

'I'm so excited, Ana! I know that I'm not supposed to say anything, but I'm just so excited! Oh, I'll call you later to discuss the details,' Mia rattled.

'Mia, what…?' Ana stammered, but Mia had already hung up. I should call her back to find out what this is about, Ana realised. The problem was that she didn't want to. She didn't want to know without a doubt why Mia was so happy. She didn't want to know for certain that Christian had her number and had given it to Mia. She didn't care that it wasn't the smart thing to do; she simply didn't want to know. She wanted to be able to go to work and to go to sleep and do all the things normal people do without having the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

She had the paranoid feeling that someone was watching her, but she didn't want to know that for sure either, so she kept her eyes on the floor and called Elizabeth to tell her that she'd be there soon.

'Where are you?' Elizabeth demanded.

'In the bus. On my way.'

'Do you have a good explanation for not being here yet?'

'I have an explanation. I don't know if it's good,' Ana confessed, trying to convince herself that she was leaving anyway, so it really didn't matter if she got fired. Except, it did. She wanted to do her job. She wanted one area of her life to stay reasonably intact.

'Well, let's hear it and I'll decide,' Elizabeth said.

'Over the weekend, I broke up with my boyfriend. It doesn't seem to be getting through to him that I'm serious. That's what the commotion on Monday was about. And last night, he broke into my apartment and did something to make his presence known. I'm late because I had to wait for the locksmith to arrive.'

'What did the police do when you called them?' Elizabeth inquired.

'I haven't.'

'Why not?'

'He left no trace, so I don't have proof. I don't think the police will believe me,' Ana elaborated. It was close enough to the truth to make her uncomfortable. She didn't want to face this. She wanted to live her life and hope that Christian would go away on his own.

'Shouldn't you at least inform them?' Elizabeth suggested. 'Shouldn't they know what's going on? An incident report could help establish a pattern of harassment.'

Unable to handle Elizabeth's logic, Ana loudly announced that this was her stop and she'd see Elizabeth in a few minutes. She'd barely ended the call when her phone rang again. It gave her such a shock to hear it that she didn't even dare to look at the display for a while. When she did, it was her mother. Quickly, Ana took the call.

'Hi mom.'

'Christian told me. Congratulations. I wish you'd told me yourself, though,' Carla admonished her, sounding upset.

'What exactly did Christian tell you?' Ana asked. Her mother hesitated briefly before replying.

'That he asked you to marry him and you accepted.'


	8. Scars

**Bleed**

**Chapter 8: Scars**

'I am not marrying Christian, mom. We're not even together anymore. I broke up with him,' Ana explained, feeling a head ache coming on. She squeezed her eyes shut. This must have been what Mia had been so excited about. Ana wondered who else Christian had told. Had he just called everyone they knew to tell them the "happy news"?

'But… I don't understand,' Carla replied. 'Why would he say that he's marrying you if that's not true?'

Because he's crazy, Ana thought. She attempted to formulate a response that wouldn't upset her mother.

'He's not handling the breakup particularly well, so far. I think that he's maybe a little messed up at the moment.'

'Oh, well. Anyone would react badly to not being able to be with you any longer,' Carla reasoned. Ana felt her cheeks grow hot.

'Mom!' she chided.

'What, dear?' Carla replied, unapologetically. 'Parents are contractually obligated to think that their children are great, aren't they? Luckily, I had you and you actually _are _great.'

Despite herself, Ana grinned and almost missed her stop. Hurrying out of the bus, she sensed movement behind her. Outside on the pavement, panting, she watched the doors close. Sawyer looked at her through the glass. When the bus started to drive again, she gave him a little wave; masking the emotional turmoil inside of her.

'Ana? Honey?'

'Yes, I'm still here,' Ana confirmed. Her heart clenched uncomfortably as she began her walk to the office. She knew the lengths Christian would go to keep her from irrational harm. Maybe having her followed was his screwed up way of protecting her? Except, he could easily have hired someone she wouldn't recognise, but instead he had given Sawyer the job. Knowing that she'd be able to identify him. Was Christian trying to put her on edge deliberately?

'I am thinking about coming out to visit you this weekend or the next,' Carla announced. I can't handle that, Ana thought. She could barely handle the situation as it was; she couldn't also handle her mother on top of that.

'I would really like that, but not right now. I'm extremely busy. Maybe later this month?' Ana proposed. Hopefully, this nonsense with Christian would be over by then. Carla reluctantly agreed to postpone her visit and Ana promised to call her the following week about the exact date. Scouring her bag for an aspirin, Ana arrived out of breath at the SIP building. She said good morning to Claire – but didn't slow down, despite Claire clearly wanting to talk about the new haircut - and quickly went up to her office.

Elizabeth came out to greet her. She looked a little taken aback when she saw the change in Ana's appearance. Ana opened her mouth to start her litany of excuses, but Elizabeth urged her not to worry; they would talk about it later. Relieved, Ana immersed herself entirely in a world she loved: the world of books. Suddenly, Hannah's voice interrupted. When Ana looked up, she realised that Hannah had probably been talking to her for a while. Nothing had registered.

'I'm sorry, Hannah. What were you saying?"

'I was asking you if had eaten anything yet. It's almost two o'clock,' Hannah pointed out.

'It is?' Ana asked, dazed. Hannah nodded and stepped aside so that Ana could see the clock. Hannah was right.

'Do you want me to get you something?' Hannah suggested. Ana shook her head.

'I should probably keep working to make up for…'

'Elizabeth said that I had to make sure that you had lunch. She also said that you should take as long as you like and that the two of you will discuss a certain matter at the end of the day,' Hannah relayed. She looked a little curious, but was professional enough to curb the interest. Ana meanwhile thought that her life could do with a little less excitement; she longed for the days when billionaires had not been interested in her.

'Okay, if I must,' Ana said, getting to her feet. Boy, was she stiff! Her neck and shoulders ached from sitting hunched over the computer screen for hours. Some fresh air and a walk would be nice, she decided. She rolled her shoulders and massaged her neck while Hannah looked on.

'I'll be back in an hour,' Anna informed her assistant. To get a head start on the exercise Ana was in dire need of, she took the stairs. Once she reached the lobby, she felt better already.

'I thought you'd never come out,' Elliot boomed. He was leaning against the reception desk. Judging by Claire's flushed face, he'd been flirting shamelessly with her.

'Claire here wouldn't let me up. She wouldn't even notify you of my presence. It took all my considerable charm to convince her not to call security on me,' Elliot recounted, grinning at both women. Ana couldn't help it; she was suspicious. What was Elliot doing here? What did he want?

'You could have called me on my cell. Didn't Christian give you my new number?' she inquired. Elliot's grin faded.

'Look, Ana, I'm not…'

'Why are you here? Did he tell you that we're getting married?' she demanded. Elliot rolled his eyes.

'Yeah,' he admitted. 'I told him that, considering his behaviour the past few days, thinking that you'd marry was him nothing short of delusional. That didn't go over well.'

They looked at each other while Claire politely pretended to be spellbound by her desk. Elliot approached Ana, holding his hands out in front of him as if to say 'nothing to fear here, see?' as he continued to talk.

'Christian has nothing to do with me being here, if that's what you're thinking. I'm not here on behalf of him. It was Kate's suggestion that I have lunch with you. Sort of like a bodyguard. In the light of… you know. So, in a way I guess I _am_ here because of Christian,' Elliot concluded, not taking his eyes off her. That reminded Ana of Sawyer. Maybe he would attempt to follow her during her lunch break too. Or maybe there was a team and they operated in shifts. It was thoughts like this that threatened to give her a head ache.

'I am prepared to take a bullet for you,' Elliot elaborated. It was meant to be a joke and Ana interpreted it as one, but it still made her feel slightly queasy.

'How about we both duck? Will that do?' she offered. Elliot grinned again and nodded. They made their way outside and to a nearby sandwich shop.

'Are you hungry?' Ana asked.

'I'm always hungry,' Elliot replied. He was not kidding. While she ate one humble sandwich, Elliot devoured three huge ones – in record time. He finished before she was halfway through her sandwich. He watched her eat for a few seconds before rubbing his neck.

'Kate didn't just send me to be your bodyguard,' he confessed. 'I'm supposed to talk to you about my shitty childhood.'

Ana nearly choked on her sandwich. Elliot got up and pounded on her back a few times until she gestured that she was okay. She wasn't, though. It was so like Kate to meddle. Ana knew it came from a good place, but, well, the road to hell was paved with good intentions and all that. When Ana glanced at Elliot, she saw that he was studying her intently.

'We don't have to…' they said simultaneously, stopping at the same time. They both smiled awkwardly.

'I don't mind,' Elliot assured her. 'Sure, it's not pleasant, but it's part of me. So, if you want to…'

'Alright,' Ana mumbled. Elliot frowned and leaned closer. She repeated what she'd said; using her outside voice this time. He nodded and began.

'Okay, when I say that my childhood sucked, I don't mean my time with Grace and Carrick. I mean the first few years of my life. I don't remember a lot about it. Most of it was told to me afterwards when I was old enough to become curious about my biological parents. My bio dad is mentally disabled and my bio mom took advantage of him. She got pregnant and dumped me with him. He couldn't take care of me properly. He didn't know how. He treated me like a dog. I don't mean bad. I mean _literally _like a dog. He barely talked to me except to issue commands. He only touched me if it was necessary. I don't remember the cage I was kept in when he wasn't at home, but I do remember feeling tolerated instead of loved.'

Elliot was silent for a moment. Ana briefly wondered whether this was worse than what Christian had gone through. Maybe there is no 'worse' in these situations, she thought. Maybe there were only different kinds of horrible.

'He managed to hide me for almost two years before he was found out. When the authorities discovered my existence, they didn't take me away immediately. They thought that he was doing pretty well. After all, I was alive, wasn't I?' Elliot recounted, sounding bitter.

'What happened?' she asked, not knowing whether she wanted to hear this or not.

'The terrible twos. He couldn't cope, so he resorted to cruelty. It's hard not to be angry when I think about it. But when I met him as an adult it was hard to hate him.'

'You met him?' Ana whispered. Elliot nodded and sighed.

'He apologised to me, but it was like a child apologising to its parent. He only knows that what he did was wrong, because other people told him that it was wrong. Besides, he only remembers that he had a baby when he is reminded of it. I don't think he gets that I was that baby,' Elliot explained. After hesitating for a second, Ana reached across the table and took his hand.

'I'm sorry. Thanks for sharing this with me,' she said. He smiled at her and then gently removed his hand from under hers.

'Kate thought it might be helpful. It's not something I like to talk about, but it's in the past now. I've dealt with it. I've got scars and Christian's got wounds. And he doesn't seem to want them to heal,' Elliot emphasised.

'Are you eating that?' he added. Ana shook her head and he grabbed what was left of her sandwich. In between huge bites, Elliot told her that Sawyer had trailed them to the shop and was watching them right now.

'At nine o'clock,' Elliot mouthed. '_Your _nine o'clock.'

Ana glanced left and spotted their stalker. Suddenly, Elliot stood up and took a couple of pictures of him with his phone. Sawyer quickly disappeared. Ana dropped her shoulders and moved her neck from side to side. Everything was tense because she felt so stressed all the time.

'He followed me this morning too. On the bus,' she told Elliot. 'You know, kinky mind fuckery is a lot less sexy than kinky fuckery.'

Elliot started to laugh. Fortunately, he was done eating by then.

'I think you'll be alright,' he declared. 'I like your hair, by the way.'


	9. All on my own

_Author's note: Apologies for the long wait._

**Bleed**

**Chapter 9: All on my own**

Still Wednesday.

It was turning out to be one of those days that didn't seem to want to end. And, to make all of it even better, Ana thought, it was filled with awkward conversations about her ex who wouldn't accept that he was her ex.

Ana's talk with Elizabeth was, well, _weird. _Elizabeth was very understanding about the situation and told Ana to just take care of herself. That wasn't the weird part. That occurred when Ana was about to leave.

'Be careful and document the incidents,' Elizabeth said, without looking up. It was good advice, which basically guaranteed that it would be ignored. Ana, after all, was still comfortably ensconced in pretend-that-this-is-not-happening-and-it-will-go-away fantasy land. The way Elizabeth said it, though, was telling. As if she had first-hand experience. As if she'd encountered a Christian Grey of her own at some point in her life and the experience had left its mark on her. Like this ordeal might leave an impression on me, Ana briefly speculated. Not a pleasant thought.

After work, she found Elliot outside of the SIP building. With his male model looks, it seemed as if he was posing in front of his car. How was it possible that every member of the Grey family was so beautiful? Had Grace and Carrick picked their children out of a catalogue?

'You want a lift?' Elliot offered, opening the door for her. Ana nodded. With her hand on the door, she paused to ask him a question.

'Did you just sit around here all day waiting for me to get off work?'

'Come on, Ana,' Elliot protested. 'I've got a life. I am, however, self-employed, which means that, within reason, I can do what I want. And I happen to love someone who really values your safety.'

A few minutes later.

'This is keeping me safe?' Ana stammered as the car flew across the road. Elliot grinned.

'Let what's-his-face try to shadow you now. Hey, don't worry about speeding tickets,' he comforted her.

'I'm not worried about speeding tickets; I'm worried about my life!'

Elliot laughed, as if he thought she was kidding. She was not.

'You do realise that not speeding isn't only about not getting a speeding ticket? It's about road safety,' she reminded him.

'Oh, yeah,' Elliot flippantly replied. Ana closed her eyes and miraculously felt the car slow down. Carefully, she opened her eyes again.

'I'll observe the traffic regulations from now on, okay?' a penitent Elliot promised. Shakily, Ana nodded. They travelled the rest of the way in a companionable silence. Kate met them at the door of their apartment, complimented Ana on her new Audrey Hepburn hairdo and announced that Elliot was staying the night. No one mentioned the break in the night before. Ana smiled at both of them with an almost overwhelming feeling of affection. I don't know why I keep pretending that I'm alone in this, she thought; I clearly am not.

Their dinner conversation centred on Christian and what other stunts they could expect from him.

'Why'd you date him in the first place?' Elliot asked suddenly. He was nothing if not direct. Ana racked her brain. It was simultaneously gratifying and sad that it took her so much time to come up with a reason. She smiled faintly. Dare she say it?

'The sex,' she mumbled. Elliot waggled his eyebrows, obviously amused. Kate swatted his arm, so he stopped, but not before winking at Ana. There was zero judgement or embarrassment, so – emboldened – Ana continued.

'I miss it,' she admitted.

'_That good_, huh?' Kate asked.

'Oh, the sex was great. Everything else was awful, but the sex was great.'

'Do you miss sex with him or sex in general?' Kate inquired. Ana glanced at Elliot before answering. He appeared entirely cool with the topic, as if discussing his brother's sex life was a daily occurrence. Maybe it was. After all, hadn't Grace suspected that Christian was gay? No doubt the Greys had whispered about it behind Christian's back.

'That's kind of the same thing for me,' Ana pointed out.

'I'm asking because if it's just sex you want, you don't really need Christian for that,' Kate explained.

'Kate!' Ana exclaimed, pretending to be scandalised. It was so nice to be able to talk about sex freely. Without guilt or shame. Kate shrugged.

'What? I am only saying that there are plenty of men out there who are not complete psychos. And you don't even need a man. You can do it yourself too,' Kate elaborated, sipping her wine. Ana must have given her a blank stare, because Kate almost choked on her drink. Concerned, Elliot patted her on the back. Once Kate was done coughing, she turned to Ana.

'You're getting a vibrator for your birthday. Another life changer.'

'No thanks,' Ana said, hiding her irritation. She'd just gotten her body back and she certainly wasn't about to hand autonomy over to another person. Not even to her well-meaning best friend. All future decisions regarding my body, whether they be sexual, nutritional, medical, etc. will be made by me, Ana mentally decreed. Yes, whatever I do next, she decided; it will be mine and mine alone.

Wiped out from having to live through the day that wouldn't end, Ana went to bed soon after dinner. Unfortunately, she then had trouble getting to sleep. She kept seeing Christian standing over her; reaching for her hair. That isn't scary, she tried to tell herself, but that didn't work. It shouldn't have been scary maybe, but it was. Scarier even than if she'd picture him going for her throat. A couple of times she turned on the light to confirm that he really wasn't present. Once she went so far as to get up and check the room, but that didn't help either. The thought of him, however unwanted, lingered.

Then she heard a noise. A moan. She closed her eyes, as if that was going to make it go away. Another moan. Nearly paralysed by anxiety, Ana imagined something horrible happening to Kate and Elliot while she lay there doing nothing. Dry mouthed and with her heart racing, Ana tried to summon the resolve to act. It took her a full minute to get to the point where she thought she was ready to move, which was also when she realised that the noises she was hearing were in fact the result of Elliot and Kate attempting to have sex quietly.

Nervously, Ana chuckled. She listened more closely. Indeed, nothing to worry about. Just sex. Relieved, she let out the breath she had unknowingly been holding. The noises became louder. Ana tried not to pay attention to them, but they proved impossible to ignore. Transfixed, she listened to Kate's low, husky moans comingled with Elliot's more masculine grunts.

Ana shifted in the bed, swallowed, slid a hand between her thighs and softly touched herself, down there.

She waited a moment to discover how she felt about that. The old Ana – the Ana that Christian liked – would never have done this in a million years. She would have been very upset at the mere thought of touching herself while listening to her friend having sex with her boyfriend. The new Ana – the Ana that Ana liked – wasn't quite sure yet how she felt about this.

She was aroused: she knew that much. Experimenting a bit, she found a comfortable position and caressed herself. It wasn't difficult. She seemed to know what to do and how to do it as if by instinct. Physically, everything was fine. Emotionally, she wasn't there yet.

Maybe fantasising will help, she thought. Christian popped into her head. Dammit, Ana internally cursed. Aside from the fact that she absolutely did not want to have the very first orgasm of her own making associated with him, the thought of him almost doused her burgeoning desire. Quick, think of someone else, Ana urged herself.

She considered a whole host of men. Paul, Ethan, José among them. None of them relit her fire. Neither did an assortment of attractive movie stars. On the brink of giving up, Ana consulted her generally useless inner goddess and, against all expectations, her inner goddess actually delivered this time. _What about Taylor? _

'Jason?' Ana whispered. Closing her eyes, she visualised his face. The slight stubble covering his strong jaw. His kind eyes. Ana's body reacted immediately. With approval. With pleasure. A feeling of intense warmth flooded through her when she imagined how it would feel to slide her fingers over that stubble across that jaw with those eyes watching her. She imagined undressing him and getting to see the nice body he must have hidden underneath those suits. She imagined him kissing her.

'Oh,' she breathed. 'Oh, Jason. Yes.'

She just knew that he would be so considerate and slow and tender unless she didn't want him to be. He'd make certain that she would enjoy every second of it. The way he'd lay her down on the bed. His naked body on top of hers. The way he'd kiss her, deep and long, taking his time. The way he'd unhurriedly guide her towards an orgasm. Their bodies entwined. Rocking.

'Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh, yes. Jason. Oh, I…' Ana moaned. She had dreamed it up so vividly that, for a blissful while, she wasn't aware of anything else. No screeching brakes. No car door being slammed shut. No screaming. There was only the fantasy of Jason around and above and inside her. Nothing of the commotion outside reached her until the throaty moan she uttered while climaxing was interrupted by the sound of a window breaking.


	10. 2 am

**Bleed**

**Chapter 10: 2 a.m.**

Afterwards, Ana could tap into it easily – she _wishes _it was hard, but she can slip into the memory without even wanting to. The panic. The confusion. The fear. She remembered swallowing a lot. She remembered her heart pounding in an almost painful manner.

Her mind was all over the place. She couldn't hold on to a single thought for a second to look at it properly and decide what to do. Her safety. Kate's safety. Is he inside the house? What should I do? Go towards the sound? Stay here? I don't have shoes on, do I? It was a maelstrom of not particularly helpful snippets of barely rational thought.

Time couldn't bring order to the chaos after the window breaking either. The feelings, yes, those would often rush at her at will, dig their fingers into her throat, strangle the oxygen out of her, make it impossible to breathe. (She tried to laugh it off. Nothing happened. Nothing worth having a panic attack over, anyway.)

The events themselves, though, they refused to neatly slide into place. She couldn't remember what happened when, because it seemed as if everything was happening at once. Lights were being turned on. People were talking simultaneously. Kate and Elliot were suddenly also in the bedroom with her. Someone – sounding slightly hysterical – asked, 'What was that?' It might have been Kate asking Ana. It might have been Ana herself asking Kate.

Everyone was very pale. Elliot held her hand. Ana's mind continued to whirl. Where is he? I am cold. Maybe I should put on shoes. Where are my socks? Damn it, where are my socks! Why am I thinking about socks right now? Is he gone? I hope he is gone. I am cold.

None of it made sense. No matter how many times she calmly tried to reconstruct the incident in the weeks and months that followed, she could never get the chronology of that night right. What happened first? What did I do? What did I say? What happened next? What did I think? Except for her feelings, everything remained a blur. There was one thing Ana remembered perfectly, however.

She remembered thinking: this is the part where he kills me.

It wasn't. He broke a window and left. It lasted a couple of minutes at the most. He just wanted to scare her. He succeeded. That was it. He didn't want to kill her, because he still believed that he could somehow convince her to return to him. This was another, less scary, part. The part where he wanted to kill her?

_That_ part came later.

In a daze, Ana walked towards the broken window. There was blood on it. Not a lot. Only a few drops. She didn't think about DNA, about forensic guys in suits coming in with Q tips, about getting a restraining order. She stared at the blood on the window as if it was her own. It wasn't.

Not yet.


	11. Consider this

**Bleed**

**Chapter 11: Consider this**

Wednesday night/Thursday morning.

'What do we do now?'

Ana knew that she was the one who asked, because Kate – staring at her as if she was from another planet - was the one who answered.

'We go to the police, of course.'

'Yes,' Ana murmured, while escaping Kate's laser-like gaze. Kate must have been too keyed up to take in the content of Ana's response, because she immediately flew off the handle.

'How much creepier does he have to get?' she demanded with trembling voice. 'He's stalking you. He broke in. I'm worried about you, Ana, but I live here too. What if I'd run into him? What if he decides that we're too close or that I'm keeping you from him? Enough is enough. We're calling the police, okay? I'm calling the police.'

'I wasn't arguing against it, Kate. I agree,' Ana replied, drained. All the fight suddenly having left her, Kate turned away then and Elliot went to her. He was in the middle of wrapping her into a comforting hug when the relative quiet of the night was broken again by another sound: a loud bang nearby. What now? Ana thought; weary. The three of them glanced at each other.

'I'm gonna check that out,' Elliot stated. Kate gave him a quick kiss and cautioned him to be careful. He went outside to investigate and came back appearing oddly satisfied.

'He crashed his car,' he answered the women's questioning looks.

'It's still there?' Kate asked. Elliot nodded.

'Is _he_ still there?' she followed up. Elliot shrugged.

'Okay, we're calling the police right now, right?' Kate decided while simultaneously confirming that they were alright with that, which was so unlike Kate that Ana had to smile. Elliot smiled too, but his smile quickly faded.

'Are you okay?' he inquired of Ana. 'You're shaking.'

It was true. She was shaking all over.

'I need a moment to myself,' she said. Surreptitiously, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and retreated into the bathroom. She put down the lid of the toilet and sat down. One deep sigh later, Christian picked up.

'Anastasia,' he said. He sounded out of breath.

'Where are you?' she asked.

'With you.'

Ana closed her eyes and resisted the urge to peek behind the shower curtain. He was _not _in here with her. He was not.

'I am always with you,' he added.

'Why are you doing this?' she demanded. Even to her own ears, she sounded wonderfully calm. That was how she wanted it. She didn't want him to know how rattled she was.

'Doing, what?' he requested. Ana shook her head at his feigned ignorance and remained silent.

'I'm glad you called me,' Christian went on. 'We need to talk about the wedding.'

'What wedding?' Ana snapped. For the first time during their conversation, he seemed to be caught off guard. That, in turn, appeared to irritate him.

'Our wedding.'

'I don't want to marry you,' she pointed out.

'Let's not talk about technicalities,' Christian suggested, dismissive as ever. Did he just say that what I want is a technicality? Ana marvelled. Yes. Yes, he did. Christian continued into her baffled silence.

'Don't you see that it would be the perfect solution for this situation? It would solve everything. I would know that you'd never leave me again.'

'But I _have_ left already,' Ana carefully reminded him.

'Which you could only do because we were not married.'

'That's not… No.'

'Don't overthink this, Ana. I've already told everyone about our engagement. Mia is thrilled.'

'I'm sure she is,' Ana sarcastically replied. 'But I haven't agreed to marry you.'

'Not yet, no,' he reluctantly admitted. 'That, however, is merely a formality at this point. I've set a wedding date and have managed to arrange everything, though it has been trying without your input. I wish you'd stop being difficult. All I need now is for you to say yes.'

Her consent was not even a technicality anymore - which had been infuriating - but a _formality_ – which was scary. Did he really think, after all of this, that she was going to say yes?

'I do not want to be in a relationship with you,' she spelled out while seriously questioning the wisdom of attempting to reason with him. 'I want someone who's whole. And you don't want to do the work to heal yourself and become whole. You expect me to do that for you. Well, that's unrealistic and, honestly, a burden. I shouldn't be responsible for fixing you. I'm not your keeper. That's not my job. You're in charge of yourself.'

'I do want to do the work,' he protested. 'I've been having sessions with Flynn for years!'

'Yes, and you've made no progress, because fundamentally you don't really want to change. You think that it's up to others to change,' she explained. She felt close to tears and almost whispered: 'Why couldn't you love me for who I am? Like I loved you.' Except, she corrected herself, hadn't she wanted to change him too?

She sighed and rubbed her face. This was futile. Engaging him with logic was a waste of time. Ignoring her stiff limbs, she got to her feet and ended the call with these words:

'Consider this goodbye.'


	12. Just so you know

**Bleed**

**Chapter 12: Just so you know**

Wednesday night/Thursday morning.

The police arrived quickly. Ana started with the latest episode and traced her history with Christian all the way back to her stumbling into his office for the first time. While she was talking and listening to herself telling two uniformed police officers about her – so far – fairly disastrous love life, it occurred to her how inevitable everything seemed. The beginning of their relationship had been screwed up and the ending was bound to be too. How could she have missed this? Had she been so blinded by his beauty and the sexual attraction? Maybe if I'd had something to compare the relationship to, Ana mused. She snapped back to attention when the elder of the police officers asked her a question.

'On our way here, we checked with dispatch to see if there had been any other recent B&amp;Es in the neighbourhood, but nothing came up. There was no mention of a previous break-in involving your apartment. You did not report the hair braiding incident?'

Ana shook her head. She was sure that her failure to report the crime – a matter she'd lied about earlier that week – would garner a reaction from Kate, but her best friend remained stoical and silent. The police officer nodded and jotted something down in his little notebook. Elliot showed him the photos he'd taken of Sawyer following Ana.

'Why'd you think he came back?' the younger officer inquired of Ana. She shrugged.

'I mean, he must have known you'd change the locks, right?' he reasoned. He sounded intrigued, bordering on excitement, but trying to tone it down for her sake.

'I cannot even begin to imagine how his mind works,' Ana said. The young cop looked her over as if he inspecting her for hidden compartments. She thought she understood. That was kind of how she'd felt before all of this. As if you needed to be special to deserve this amount of fixation. As if normal people didn't have stalkers. As if the victim somehow should have been to blame. Otherwise things like this just randomly happened to ordinary people and how could that be?

'What will you do now?' Ana asked.

'Not much, I'm afraid. There's not much we can do,' the older cop answered. He indicated the blood on the window.

'We'll process that. We'll also take the vehicle and verify that it's registered to him. Might get a temporary restraining order out of that, if you're lucky.'

The cop appeared unhappy with his choice of words and amended them to, 'if you want.'

'Why wouldn't I want that?' Ana inquired, genuinely curious. Eagerly, the young cop raised his hand. The older cop smiled slightly – which caused the young cop to sheepishly drop his hand – before turning to Ana again.

'To be honest, a restraining order could achieve the opposite of its intended effect,' he explained. Those are a lot of fancy words for what essentially means 'it might backfire', Ana thought.

'That kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?' Elliot interjected.

'Yep,' the police office admitted. He sounded weary. Like he had little faith in "the system." Ana processed this. Naively, she'd hoped that – with the blood and the car – they'd have enough to arrest Christian. What did any of it prove, though? That he had smashed a window of the apartment where his ex was staying? That a car belonging to Christian had been near the apartment where his ex was staying? She couldn't even prove that he had broken in before.

'What can _I _do?' she inquired, allowing the reality of the situation to seep into her bones.

'Report further incidents to us,' the older cop urged. And there it was again. Like Jason, this man was almost perversely convinced that Christian would continue to wage his campaign of intimidation and harassment.

'Cut all ties with him,' the cop went on, as if he was ticking off items of a how-to-deal-with-stalkers checklist. 'You've been clear. You've told him that you want him to leave you alone. There's nothing more to say.'

Kate – having kept quiet for so long that Ana had almost forgotten that she was there – chimed in then, in fine sarcastic form.

'So, just ignore him? Like a schoolyard bully?'

Ana would have been embarrassed, but she mostly agreed. What was the police doing, giving her advice on how to handle a lunatic? The older cop sighed.

'Your anger is entirely warranted, ma'am. It is ridiculous that I am telling your friend to please take care of herself instead of actually doing something. Unfortunately, there is a limit to what we can do. And, yes, in a way, generally our advice is to ignore stalkers to some extent. Contact is what they crave.'

The young cop piped up.

'You know that show business saying? There's no such thing as bad publicity. Well, that's how stalkers think too. To them there's no such thing as negative contact. Any form of communication will probably be perceived as encouragement and might provoke him to approach you.'

'You have to understand that you can't reason with stalkers,' the older cop elaborated. 'They hear what they want to hear. He might interpret your responses in such a way that they fit with the narrative he has created. If that's true, it doesn't matter what you say or do: it will only confirm and reinforce his beliefs. Contact accomplishes nothing. It might even fan the flames, so to speak.'

He stopped talking for a second, before resuming; reluctantly, it seemed.

'Then again, he may be able to make your silence fit his delusion too. That's the problem with these kind of situations: there is no right response. Any reaction from you might trigger him, but your lack of reaction might also do that.'

'The truth, and this is not something you'll like to hear, is that the more his behaviour escalates, the easier it will be to lock him up,' the young cop added. That earned him a reproachful glance from his elder.

'Don't scare the girl.'

'I'm sorry.'

Ana waved that away. She'd rather have the truth, however frightening, than a comforting lie.

'This might get worse?' she asked, directing her question at the older cop. He nodded, slowly.

'I think that there's definitely a chance that Christian's behaviour might escalate, yes. It doesn't always happen, but it _does _happen. Therefore, I also advise you to inform others of what you're going through. Family, friends, co-workers etc. Otherwise they might inadvertently aid Christian. Improve your personal protection. Keep safe. And, finally, compile evidence. Save emails and calls from him. Compile a journal of events. Build a case. My colleague is right: the depressing reality is that it is notoriously difficult to convict someone just for stalking. However, that doesn't mean that we're not going to try.'

The five of them drank tea. Ana really could have gone for some coffee, some serious caffeine, but she knew that this wasn't a good idea. She felt exhausted and wired at the same time.

'I'll drive you to work,' Elliot offered after the police had left. Ana had a brief, but terrifying vision of another death-defying ride and shivered.

'I'll ask Jason. Taylor. Jason,' she stuttered, feeling her cheeks grow hot under Kate's amused gaze. Ana had already dialled his number before she realised that it was still in the middle of the night. He was remarkably cool about it. He didn't seem to mind that she'd woken him up and that she was basically asking him to be her chauffeur/bodyguard without any mention of pay. The only thing he wasn't cool about was what Christian had done.

'You'll be my own personal Kevin Costner?' Ana joked. He chuckled while she blushed at what she'd implied.

'I'll do my best. Try to get some sleep,' Jason recommended. They agreed upon a time he'd pick her up and ended the call. Ana talked with Elliot and Kate for a couple of minutes about what she'd say at work and how she was not looking forward to calling her parents. They taped some cardboard over the broken window. They said goodnight and retired to their respective bedrooms.

Ana stared at the ceiling. She should have asked what the police meant by 'escalate.' Somehow she didn't think they had meant more flowers, phone calls or even break-ins. She turned onto her left side and closed her eyes. Her mind conjured up newspaper stories about stalkers. She immediately opened her eyes again and turned onto her other side.

'Just let me get through this week,' she whispered.

It was very early Thursday morning. She would see Christian twice before the week was over and their second meeting would end in blood.


End file.
